Escapism
by Ivyania
Summary: Melinda..is trapped...until she finds her internal power aching to be relinquished.


**Speak **- By Laurie Halse Anderson

Taken from **Speak **– Chapter titled "Prey"

"His mouth is on my face. I twist my head. His lips are wet, his teeth knock against my cheekbone. I pull my arms again and he slams his body against mine. I have no legs. My heart wobbles. His teeth are on my neck. The only sound I can make is a whimper. He fumbles to hold both my wrists in one hand. He wants a free hand. I remember I remember. Metal hands, hot knife hands."

No. This will _not_ happen again.

I am ready to fight. To gain vengeance. I will fight.

I grab my comforter that I had just folded. I cover his face with it, trying to lengthen my thinking time. IT lifts the comforter and starts to dash at me. I whimper. He twists my hands. I am helpless, a poor rabbit shrinking in its own shadow. I do the only thing that makes sense- I kick him in the groin.

IT kneels over, moaning. I am not vulnerable anymore. I am strong. I regain my power. I hit him on the head with my potpourri bowl.

IT: "You're not going down easy, are you?" He looks menacing.

I am pinned against the wall, IT holding me back. I somehow wriggle my hands free. They find their place at his throat.

Me: "What, were you counting on raping me again?" I say it with an air of false confidence.

I press my hands harder at his throat. IT is gasping for air, still squeezing out the air in my lungs and wrenching me around. But I feel no pain anymore. I want revenge, only revenge.

IT falls to the ground, still gasping, taking me with him. My arms and body are bleeding. I know nothing but of my retribution. Nothing less, nothing else.

IT falls into my lap unintentionally. I move around but he is too heavy. He lies wheezing on the ground. I don't let go. Nothing but shear sinfulness is on my mind. Of what he did to me. Of what _IT_ did to me. There is only one thought buzzing in my psyche- his life must be sacrificed. I ponder no longer. I wonder no longer. My conscience is dead.

IT manages to breathe one last breath of fresh air. There will be no fresh air in the new atmosphere he will enter soon. Just cold blackness. Solid blackness.

IT: "You…." He whispers faintly.

He no longer breathes he no longer breathes he no longer breathes. He lies in front of me, looking pitiful. How could I have dreaded seeing this pathetic face for so long? I smirk. He is dead. IT is dead.

My brain comes back from the graveyard. I contemplate what I have just done. I shiver, shudder, tremor, tremble. I walk towards the door. Halfway turning the handle, I spin around. I walk back to IT's dead body. I kiss his forehead and stride towards the door. I take my Maya Angelou poster, the one thing in my closet worth loving. I lock it.

I run like the light. I run to a bathroom stall and cry. It's beginning to sink in, what I have just done. Qualms fill my mind. What do I do?

My life has never been normal since that day, that day in the summer. I have been shunned to a side, never even been given a chance. I will never be able to live a normal life. I have committed manslaughter. I must run, run away.

I walk home swiftly and pack my treasured, alienated belongings into a suitcase. I think the whole time. Am I making the right decision? I pack faster.

I look around the house one last time and place the note I have written in the kitchen for Mom and Dad. I collect some money from a drawer and make a couple of quick phone calls for a taxi and a seat in a train to far, far away. Time passes by. I cry again. The taxi arrives outside and honks loudly. I look around before starting on my quick getaway.

I jump in the back seat with my suitcase and tell the driver where we are heading. He looks wrinkled and his voice is raspy.

Taxi Driver: "Are we ready to go, miss?"

I mumble softly and he takes it for a yes. I make myself comfortable and the drive starts. I try to forget. But I know it will be etched in my memory forever, like carvings on a tombstone. I will never forget IT even if I run away, even if I hide forever. I can't hide from the truth like I can hide from the law. I remember the school year, the amount of times I skipped days because I did not want to face it. I giggle. I do not turn around to glimpse my home for the last time. I do not look back. Ever.


End file.
